The atmosphere seemed to freeze. Lin Shijin felt Sheng Rufei’s gaze upon him; his wrist was still held in the youth’s hand, their bodies uncomfortably close.
Close enough for him to catch the scent of plum blossoms clinging to Sheng Rufei, and close enough that Sheng Rufei could clearly see the lock around Lin Shijin’s neck.
Heat crept up Lin Shijin’s face, and a sharp pain shot through his wrist from the tight grip.
“Shizun put this on you?” Sheng Rufei asked, his voice colder than usual, tinged with a strange emotion.
“Shixiong… you’re hurting me,” Lin Shijin whispered. The other slowly released him, and he withdrew his hand.
Sheng Rufei’s gaze lingered, and he murmured a soft “Mmm” before replying, “Shizun said it would help my cultivation.”
Lin Shijin felt uneasy, especially under Sheng Rufei’s piercing stare, and sensed the youth’s aura had turned colder.
“How does it help your cultivation? Does a lock actually improve your skills?”
It was the first time Sheng Rufei had asked so many questions. He didn’t want to say more; if he did, Sheng Rufei might guess the truth.
“You don’t need to worry, Shixiong. We can only follow Shizun’s instructions,” Lin Shijin said, lips pressed into a thin line. “Wearing it normally doesn’t cause trouble. Shizun was angry yesterday; maybe in a couple of days, when his anger subsides, he’ll take the lock back.”
As he spoke, the youth in front of him seemed to freeze into ice, his gaze frigid, clearly angered.
Lin Shijin felt Sheng Rufei’s emotions and grew uneasy. That he was also indignant on his behalf stirred something in him… though he couldn’t quite name it.
Sheng Rufei’s sense of injustice touched him; it wasn’t entitlement, it was genuine care. Seeing someone empathise was a rare, stirring thing.
Yet he couldn’t allow Sheng Rufei to defend him. That blockhead would only end up punished if he intervened.
Lin Shijin tugged awkwardly at the corner of Sheng Rufei’s robe. “Shixiong… you don’t need to get involved. I’ll handle it myself.”
“Don’t go to Shizun.”
Sheng Rufei said nothing further. His eyelids drooped slightly, his fingertips brushing the lock around Lin Shijin’s neck as he asked softly, “Does it hurt?”
“No,” Lin Shijin said, turning his face slightly, ears burning. “It doesn’t usually hurt.”
In the distance, the sound of approaching disciples reached them. They had lingered too long.
Lin Shijin stepped back slightly, giving Sheng Rufei some space. They spoke no more; Sheng Rufei rarely initiated conversation, and now that his questions were asked, he didn’t seek Lin Shijin out again, though his eyes occasionally flicked toward him while he practiced.
“Sheng-shidi, what’s wrong with you today? Your sword energy went off-target three times!”
“Oh no, again! The sword energy almost struck the statue of Lord Changming!”
“Eh—”
“This is bad! Sheng-shidi chopped the Sword Master’s statue by accident!”
At the back of the Sword Pavilion, a statue of Feng Rugao stood. Disciples practised nearby with extreme caution, rarely brushing it with sword energy. Occasionally, a stray stroke might graze it, leaving a minor scratch.
Lin Shijin was practising the basics, sweeping bamboo leaves with his sword energy, when a loud bang shattered the air. Murmurs spread among the gathering disciples.
As more arrived, heavy objects clattered to the ground. Lin Shijin caught the last few words, froze, then turned.
He watched in helpless disbelief as the statue of Feng Rugao collapsed with a thunderous bang, shattering into pieces, sword energy carving a deep trench into the earth.
The once-quiet training ground had become a scene of chaos, disciples gathering in excitement.
When had Sheng Rufei ever lost control of his sword energy? Never. Until today… when he cleaved the statue of Feng Rugao outright.
“What’s wrong with Sheng-shidi today… really lost control? Or has he gone mad?”
“He actually dared to chop the Sword Master’s statue! Does the Sword Master know?”
“Sheng-shidi is too beautiful to have done it on purpose.”
Lin Shijin’s eyelids twitched uncontrollably. A stone slipped from his feet, and he stared at the nearby wood, hesitating.
“Shixiong, you…”
Sheng Rufei’s eyebrows lowered slightly as he looked at the fallen statue, shadows lying beneath his lashes.
The commotion grew; dawn had broken, and soon someone went to fetch Elder Song.
Elder Song oversaw the Sword Pavilion’s lessons and had always favoured Sheng Rufei. Seeing the shattered statue, his eyes nearly popped.
“Sheng Liuguang, what happened today? Were you injured returning from the secret realm?”
Elder Song was tactful. Even if it was a simple misstep of sword energy, the destruction warranted punishment.
His prized disciples were all facing penalties.
Xue Ning, who was talented and highly skilled had been sent to the Forbidden Mountain and then exiled for betraying the sect.
Su Lian, a fellow disciple of Xue Ning’s was sent to the Upside-Down Enlightenment Cliff for shielding Xue Ning.
And now only Sheng Rufei remained. He considered Sheng Rufei his only hope, but at present, he is to be punished.
“It’s not just a matter of misdirected sword energy; perhaps your heart wandered too, to do something like this,” Elder Song said. Sheng Rufei stayed silent, only letting out a soft cough.
“This matter won’t trouble the Sword Master. Go to Shenxing Hall this afternoon to receive your penalty.”
Disciples dispersed quickly, Sheng Rufei last among them. Lin Shijin intentionally walked slowly, reaching his side.
“Shixiong, do you want to be punished?”
“Why did you strike Shizun’s statue?”
If Feng Rugao found out, the punishment would be far worse.
Sheng Rufei’s lips pressed into a thin line as he gazed at his sword. “I didn’t control my sword energy properly.”
Even a fool would disbelieve that excuse. Lin Shijin also doubted it, noticing Jing Qiuhong nearby, eyes wide in shock, mouth agape.
After a few words with Sheng Rufei, Lin Shijin realised he wasn’t in the mood to talk, and turned to Jing Qiuhong.
“Sheng Rufei… chopped the Sword Master’s statue?” Jing Qiuhong was awed. “The disciples of Changgao Peak are all something else.”
As they walked, Jing Qiuhong continued:
“It’s been ages since I’ve seen Sheng Rufei like this.”
“What do you mean?”
“You don’t know?” Jing Qiuhong glanced at him. “It’s normal you don’t know. After all, you arrived late.”
“Sheng Rufei wasn’t like this at first. When he joined Fuguang, someone tried to steal from him. He beat the thief, retrieved his possessions, and trashed their courtyard in the process.”
Lin Shijin’s eyes widened. That didn’t sound like Sheng Rufei at all. How old was he then?
“He was punished, whipped raw in the Shenxing Hall,” Jing Qiuhong continued. “He learned his lesson, became more obedient, but still cold. His cultivation is top-tier; he’s one of the best disciples.”
“No one dares provoke him… except clingy pests, and now they’re gone. Xue Ning’s no longer at Fuguang.”
“This is only the second time in years I’ve seen him act out,” Jing Qiuhong said thoughtfully.
“I don’t know what he has against the Sword Master, but they’re both cold and aloof. Sheng Rufei carries some of Feng Rugao’s old temperament.”
“Ah no… perhaps the student surpasses the master.”
Lin Shijin considered this, seeing some resemblance but noting many differences. Sheng Rufei was his own person, cold and taciturn, yet carrying an awkward gentleness.
“You know a lot,” Lin Shijin said. “I want to ask you something… do you know anything about it?”
Jing Qiuhong’s interest piqued. “Ask. There’s usually nothing I don’t know.”
“Even if I don’t know, I can help find out.”
“I want to ask… do you know of a kind of lock,” Lin Shijin said cautiously, “a lock that can control emotions? How would one unlock it?”
“Why ask? Such locks are rare, usually linked to incantations.”
“Incantations aren’t easy, since they involve a person’s seven emotions and six desires. Usually only the powerful attempt them… generally…”
Jing Qiuhong’s gaze wandered; he hesitated.
“Generally what?” Lin Shijin prompted. “Just tell me. I won’t tell anyone else.”
“You promise?”
“I promise.”
“Then listen carefully.” Jing Qiuhong glanced around. With the other disciples gone, he lowered his voice.
“I once secretly read forbidden books in the library. These curses are rare; only a few types were ever recorded.”
“Some induce unrequited love, some obsessive fixation, some prevent disciples on the path of ruthlessness from feeling emotions… but this curse was later banned.”
“Over a hundred years ago, a deity used it on his reincarnated partner. The partner didn’t remember him, and fell for someone else. The deity went mad, slaughtered an entire ghost city, and imprisoned their reincarnated partner.”
“In short, the curse is an invisible restriction on a person. Rarely used now. Why are you asking?”
Jing Qiuhong leaned closer, whispering. “You didn’t read the forbidden books yourself, did you?”
Lin Shijin shook his head, confused. This tale of deities and reincarnated partners seemed irrelevant. He asked, “Do you know how to break the curse?”
“Of course not. Only the one who tied the knot can untie it.”
Lin Shijin pressed further. “What happens if someone wearing the lock develops feelings?”
Jing Qiuhong knew the answer. “At best, they’re punished; at worst, their memories are erased. It depends entirely on the curser’s mood.”
“I’ve heard of stronger love curses,” he continued, “ones that make the victim forget past love and fall for the caster. Over time… the cursed can’t tell who they truly love.”
